Never Cross a Killer
by Arsahi
Summary: Sequel to Buffy the High School Student. That's all you need to know. CHECK IT OUT! PART FOUR!
1. Prologue/Black Roses

Title: Never Cross a Killer  
Part: Prologue/Black Roses  
Author: Arsahi  
Rated: PG-13  
Distribution: Anyone who wants it, just ask.  
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is not mine. It's Joss Whedon's,  
lucky little fart.  
Dedication: To everyone who followed the prequel to this sequel!  
Summary: Surprise, surprise--it's April, starting out around Easter, when  
Buffy gets a really really surprise visitor.  
Notes: Yeehaw--grab your seatbelts folks, it's another wild ride as we   
join Buffy, Spike, Xander, Cordy, Willow, and Oz on yet another wacky  
adventure.  
  
~*~ Prologue/Black Roses ~*~  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
The chilly March air nipped at Spike's nose. He wandered through the  
cemetery, heedless of anything that might be lurking in the shadows.  
He hugged his duster tighter around him, not caring much to get cold,  
and searched the names emblazoned on the tombstones for a specific  
name. Margaret Hathaway, James Karen, Michael Johnson, Henry   
Summers...  
  
Spike halted and backpedaled a few steps. He read the inscription on   
the headstone, realizing that this was the infamous missing father of  
Buffy's. The infamous Hank.  
  
He rolled his eyes and went back to reading the names on the head-  
stones. Nicholas Brown, Theresa Brady, Mable Young...where the hell  
had they put that grave?  
  
He stopped, nearly tripping over the one he was looking for.  
  
Darla Hannah Walthrop  
September 28, 1977 - January 3, 2001  
She Was In Over Her Head  
  
"Hey Dar," Spike murmured. He looked around to see if anyone else  
was in the cemetery and looked back down at the grave. He noticed  
a bouquet of dark roses lying next to the headstone, obviously for  
Darla. "Wha's this?"  
  
He lifted the bouquet up and realized the roses were black. Black roses  
for death. A little envelope and card fluttered from the tangle of roses  
inside the plastic wrap and Spike bent down to retrieve the card, setting  
the roses on the grave.   
  
For some reason he couldn't name, Spike felt compelled to open the  
envelope.  
  
He narrowed his eyes, crumpled the note and jammed it into his pocket.  
"Is this you're idea of a joke," he growled to no one. He knew there was  
someone else there. They had put the roses there, they had put them   
there for Spike to find. After all, the note had been addressed to him.  
"If i' is, I don' see anyone laughin', mate."  
  
He waited a few moments. No one jumped out at him behind a tree or  
anything. Spike pressed his lips together, feeling endlessly silly for thinking  
someone would be out to get him.  
  
The only person that would be out to get him, if there WAS someone out  
to get him, would be Liam. And Liam was safely behind bars in a maximum  
security prison. There would be no way he could escape. No way.  
  
Carefully, not wanting to get beat up in the cemetery, Spike picked his way  
back to his car. He reached for the handle and almost pulled it open when  
someone punched him and managed to slice open his eyebrow. Spike kicked  
the teenager, shoved her away from his car, and jumped in, driving away.  
  
"Dammit," he muttered. He hissed in pain as the area where his eyebrow  
had been sliced open began to throb. "Bloody hell..."  
  
The girl pulled herself up and stood in the road, holding her stomach where  
Spike had kicked her. She wheezed, brushing her dark brown hair from her  
face. "Almost had him," she grumbled, starting down the sidewalk. "I almost  
had him, dammit!"  
  
When Spike pulled into the driveway at his, Buffy's, and Joyce's home, he  
kept glancing over his shoulder, paranoid, until he went inside and ran up  
the stairs to Buffy. When he had his fiancée with him, he could face any-  
thing. Without her, he was scared to death.  
  
"Spike? What's wrong?" Buffy asked, knowing something had to be wrong  
for him to cling to her like that.  
  
Wordlessly he dug the crumpled card out of his pocket and raised his hand  
to cover the gash on his eyebrow.  
  
Buffy read over the note and narrowed her eyes. She went and picked up  
the book she was reading, pulling out a piece of paper.  
  
The notes had the same handwriting.  
  
Spike proceeded to go to bed. 


	2. 1/Kicked Out

1/Kicked Out  
  
Thank you to Jessie, Kelley, Belladonna, swalpole23, veggie'slilangel, and  
Destiney for commenting on the prologue.  
  
"Last Resort" belongs to Papa Roach.  
  
~*~ 1/Kicked Out ~*~  
  
Willow and Oz sat cuddled up together on Willow's couch. They had been  
watching a movie, but it ended about an hour ago and neither had the desire  
to move from the positions they were currently in: Willow's head on Oz's lap,  
and Oz slowly stroking her back.  
  
"When's Easter?" Willow asked quietly.  
  
"Next Sunday," Oz replied. "Why?"  
  
"Just wondering," Willow sighed contently. Then she shifted her weight slightly  
so she could look up at Oz. "Bunnies."  
  
"What?" Oz blinked.  
  
"Bunnies," Willow nodded.  
  
Oz rolled his eyes and shook his head. "What about bunnies?"  
  
"They're scary," Willow told her boyfriend. "All fluffy and cute and innocent.  
Anything that naive has to be a creation of something pure evilness."  
  
Oz chuckled and kissed her lightly. "You're so cute, you know that?"  
  
"Oh, make fun of me," she grumbled. "Make fun of my bunny-o-phobia."  
  
"It's just cute," Oz explained.  
  
"Whatever," Willow sighed, pouting at him.  
  
Oz shook his head again, smiling.  
  
"Ever since I read Bunnicula I never looked at bunnies the same way."  
  
Oz laughed.  
***  
  
"When are we gonna get married?" Buffy asked, doing her homework like a  
good little girl while Spike read some out of the history book.  
  
"How's tomorrow?" Spike replied, lifting his blue eyes to look at her.  
  
"Seriously," Buffy pouted.  
  
"After we graduate, pet," he nodded decisively.  
  
"Okay..." she sighed and went back to her homework, but her mind wasn't  
on it. She tapped her pen on the worksheet, then chewed on the cap. She  
looked back at him. "Yeah, but what month, Spike?"  
  
Spike shrugged, making a note of something on a piece of paper. "Whatever  
you want, luv."  
  
Silence engulfed them. Then, suddenly, Buffy spoke again.  
  
"You don't care, do you?"  
  
"Wha'?" he looked at her, bewildered.  
  
"You don't even care that we're getting married."  
  
"O' course I care," Spike frowned. "Why do you think I wouldn't?"  
  
"You were joking about it first, and then you're acting like I need to do all  
the planning," Buffy narrowed her eyes.  
  
Spike arched an eyebrow. "Buffy, I'm kinda busy righ' now, I would *like* to  
ge' this assignment done so I don't have to repeat my senior year, so we *can*  
ge' married."  
  
"You don't give a damn about graduating, I know you don't," Buffy looked at  
him, hazel eyes filling with hurt.  
  
*Bloody hell,* Spike cursed internally. "I care about graduatin' now, Buffy, I  
know your mum wouldn't like me marryin' you 'less I could provide for us."  
  
"So now I can't get a job? I have to stay home all day and be a perfect little  
housewife?" Buffy's voice was growing louder, sparking Spike's temper into  
play.  
  
"Tha's no' wha' I said and you bloody well *know* i'!" his voice matched Buffy's  
in volume. "Though I'm startin' t' think tha' maybe you *should* stay home...  
save me the embarrassmen'!"  
  
Buffy's indignant gasp almost made Spike reel back as if he'd been slapped.   
"*Me*, an *embarrassment*?! You dress like we're still in goddamn 80s! In   
case you haven't noticed, William, it's 2001!"  
  
"At least I'm not a bloody spoiled *brat*!"   
  
"Bastard!"  
  
"Bitch!"  
  
"Get out of my house!"  
  
"Hate to break it to you luv, but *I* live here too!"  
  
"Not anymore. GET OUT!"  
  
"I shoulda known better than t' think *this* would work ou'!"  
  
Spike stomped out, his ring lying on the floor. Moments later he came back  
in with his duffel bag, shoved clothes and his school supplies in it, and left  
the house.  
  
"Spike!" Buffy called out the window, throwing it open. He stopped and  
looked over his shoulder at her...  
  
...and proceeded to get hit in the face with a boot.  
  
"Bloody hell!" Spike roared, covering his face and stooping down to pick up  
the boot.  
  
And got hit on the butt with the other one.  
  
"You bloody bitch!" he yelled at her.  
  
She stuck her tongue out at him. "And don't come back!"  
  
"Gladly!"  
***  
  
Xander tore himself away from the TV and answered his door, which  
someone was incessantly pounding on. As soon as he had the door  
open, the caller shoved past him and sat down on Xander's bed. Xander  
looked out the door, closed it, and turned around. "Spike? What are you  
doing here?"  
  
"Buffythrewmeou'," he said quickly.  
  
"Huh?" Xander replied ingeniusly.  
  
"She threw me ou', Whelp," Spike told him despairingly.  
  
Xander looked at Spike oddly. "Buffy threw you out? Why?"  
  
"Because I 'didn' care abou' our wedding'," Spike scoffed.  
  
Xander walked over and turned off the television. He felt he owed it to  
Spike to listen to him, since the peroxide-blond man had come to him in  
the first place. Which, logically, meant that Spike had no one else to  
turn to. "So...what brought that on? What were you two talking about?"  
  
"I was doin' my homework," Spike started, earning a snort from Xander.  
  
"Sorry," Xander waved him on. "Continue."  
  
"And she asked me when we were gonna ge' married," Spike continued.  
"I proposed tomorrow, and she told me to be serious, so I told her after  
we graduate. Then she asked me what month and I told her whatever  
month she wanted, and then she got her bloody knickers in a twist."  
  
"Sounds to me like all you have to do is apologize for being a man," Xander  
told him.  
  
"I don' have t' apologize for anything," Spike said defensively. "I' was her  
faul'."  
  
"Oh just swallow your ego, Peroxide Boy," Xander clapped the older man on  
the back. "Just apologize to her and she'll let you live in the house again.  
Preferably soon, 'cause I don't think my parents will enjoy having you down  
here. Neither will I."  
  
"Thanks for lettin' me stay, mate," Spike smirked.  
  
Xander rolled his eyes and thrust his phone at the other man. "Call her."  
***  
  
The following day, Tuesday, found Spike and Buffy sitting as far away from  
each other as they could at the small table-like desk they shared in science.  
They barely spoke a word to each other, and Cordelia didn't like this devel-  
opment at all. Monday morning they'd been fine. What had happened   
yesterday morning that would make the two so angry with each other? Cordy  
would have to ask Xander and see if he knew anything.  
  
Soon, the class was engrossed in a lab the teacher assigned.   
  
"That's *not* how you do it, dumbass."  
  
"Oh, and you're a bloody scientist."  
  
"No, I just pay attention in class, unlike you."  
  
"I *was* paying atten--where's your ring?"  
  
"Why do you care?"  
  
"We're still engaged, Buffy."  
  
"Is *that* why you threw your ring down on my floor and left the house in  
a hissy?"  
  
"I still don' know wha' the bloody hell caused tha' bloody fight--I love you more  
'n anything, you know tha'."  
  
"You just don't care about our wedding."  
  
Cordelia whirled around and gave them both looks that could kill. "Stop it. You  
two love each other, you're going to get married soon, kiss and make up already!  
God! What are your childhood traumas!"  
  
She turned back to her lab partner and continued the lab.  
  
The two stared at Cordelia's back, then looked at each other, then went back  
to gaping at Cordy's back.  
  
Cordelia turned to face them again. "Spike, Billy Idol called. He wants his look   
back. And Buffy, *please* get a Tic-Tac and shut your mouth, your breath   
stinks."  
***  
  
"Your girlfriend is bloody bint, Xander," Spike told the dark-haired boy, doing his  
homework while Xander's stereo blared next to him.  
  
"What does that mean, anyway?" Xander asked. "'Bint'. I know it's...ah...not  
exactly flattering, but..."  
  
"Druther not tell you," Spike muttered, marking an answer down on his paper.  
"But your girl's one. She got all...Queen Cordelia today."  
  
Xander laughed. "That's funny. Cordy's not 'Queen Cordelia'."  
  
"She was t' me and," a wistful look crossed Spike's features, "Buffy. She said  
some not very nice things."  
  
"I do believe you're talking like one of the gang, Spike," Xander told him. He  
glanced at the digital alarm clock next to his bed. "Damn. I gotta go. Gotta  
meet the others for a study date--wanna come with?"  
  
"Is she gonna be there?" Spike asked, genuinely considering going with Xander  
to a study date with Willow, Oz, and Cordelia with him.  
  
Xander nodded. "It would be a perfect time to apologize to her..."  
  
Spike shook his head. "No. We had another figh' this mornin', I'm no' ready   
t' apologize to her ye'."  
  
"Your loss," Xander shrugged. "Don't trash the place," he warned and left.  
  
"Like I would do that, you bloody pillock," Spike grumbled. He just turned the  
radio up louder.  
  
---  
Cut my life into pieces  
This is my last resort  
Suffocation, no breathing  
---  
  
Spike found himself singing along. And he realized then he spent fifteen   
hours away from Buffy from Monday afternoon to Tuesday morning, and  
now he'd just spent the last three hours away from her. And when he'd  
seen her, he rarely talked to her, especially after the episode in their science  
class.  
  
---  
Don't give a [censored] if I cut my arms bleeding  
Cut my life into pieces  
I've reached my last resort  
Suffocation, no breathing  
Don't give a [censored] if I cut my arms bleeding  
---  
  
Spike looked at his homework and decided it wasn't so important right now.  
His head was starting to hurt anyway.  
  
So he jumped up and began to play air guitar.  
  
---  
Do you even care if I die bleeding?  
Would it be wrong would it be right  
If I took my life tonight  
Chances are that I might  
Mutilation out of sight  
And I'm contemplating suicide  
---  
  
Spike slid out of Xander's walk-in closet in nothing but his socks, boxers, his  
T-shirt, and a pair of sunglasses.  
  
This was definitely risky business.  
  
---  
'Cause I'm losing my sight, losing my mind  
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine  
Losing my sight, losing my mind  
Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine  
---  
  
He played the air guitar, singing along with the song. He jumped up on  
Xander's unmade bed and pretended like he was at a concert.  
  
---  
I never realized I was spread to thin  
Till it was too late, and it was t--  
---  
  
"Spike?"  
  
He froze.  
  
"What the *hell* are you doing?"  
***  
  
She prowled down the sidewalk as soon as it was dark enough to go unnoticed  
if she dressed in black. She was looking for a specific car. An old black DeSoto.  
The one she'd tried to get the other day.  
  
She could *not* find the damn thing for the life of her. And now she had a qualm  
with the owner of that certain DeSoto.  
  
She was going to kick his ass.  
  
If she could find him, that is.  
  
How hard should it be to find a peroxide-blond git with a DeSoto?  
  
Harder than finding a microscopic Waldo, apparently. 


	3. 2/Never Failed

2/Never Failed  
  
Thank you to the following people: Isabelle, Belladonna, veggie'slilangel,  
Kelley, and Josie. Anybody else...sorry I missed you. You musta commented  
after I posted!  
  
When you get to it, "snarfle" is used without permission from Mae, my cohort.  
  
"Mirror, Mirror" belongs to M2M.  
  
~*~ 2/Never Failed ~*~  
  
The dark-haired girl stooped down flat on the grass. She'd finally found  
the black DeSoto, and had been drawn like a moth to the yellow light  
drifting from the small rectangular window allowing her access to watching  
the room it harbored. The blond man was watching MTV.  
  
She snorted. "What a loser," she muttered.  
  
Then she noticed that the car was unattended.  
  
Ka-ching.  
  
She jumped up and edged over to the car. The moment she managed to  
jimmy open the lock, a loud car alarm went off. And she looked down,  
figuring out that the DeSoto had an alarm rigged on it. Somehow. 'Little  
turd,' she thought.  
  
She turned around and ran into the blond guy. "H-hi," she said, blinking at  
him.  
  
"Hi luv," he smirked. She backed up against the car as he propped his arms  
on it. "Wha' do you think you were tryin' to do?"  
  
"Uh...nothing," she wished she could make herself smaller.  
  
"Looked like a whole lotta somethin' goin' on for nothin'," he retorted. "Why  
don't you just fess up? I won' turn you in, Scout's Honor."  
  
She didn't trust him and narrowed her dark eyes at her, her already pale  
skin pallid in the sickly yellow streetlight. "Why should I trust *you*?"  
  
"Because I used t' be like you, pet," he replied. "Name's Spike."  
  
"Faith," she said guardedly.  
  
"Why would you wanna steal a P.O.S. like my DeSoto, pet?" he asked her,  
looking at her curiously.  
  
She looked at his eyebrow. "A scar."  
  
"Wha'?" Spike frowned at her. "'A scar' is why?"  
  
"No. You have a scar," she repeated. "Right there," she traced it with a  
calloused finger. "Didn't know my nails were that sharp."  
  
Recognition flickered in Spike's ice blue eyes. "You! You're the bint who tried  
to steal my car the other day! Bloody hell..."  
  
Faith laughed. As soon as Spike lifted his arm, Faith took off. "Bye!"  
  
Spike frowned, scratching his head in puzzlement. "Bloody hell..."  
***  
  
"Has he even come by the house yet, Buffy?" Willow asked, sitting on her friend's  
bed, eating popcorn with her.  
  
"No," Buffy replied sullenly. "He hasn't even come by the house! I wonder if I hit  
him too hard..."  
  
"You hit him?" Willow's eyes bugged and her hand froze with two pieces of popcorn  
in it.  
  
"Well not with my fists or anything," Buffy looked at Willow. "He forgot his boots so  
I threw them out the window at him. Hit him in the head," then she began to giggle,  
"and on his cute little ass."  
  
Willow laughed. "He musta yelled 'bloody hell!'" she guessed, mimicking his Cockney  
accent terribly.  
  
"I think he did," Buffy laughed a little. "But...Wills...it's been four days since I even  
talked to him..."  
  
It was Friday night, the same night Spike met Faith. Willow was spending the night  
at the distraught bride-to-be's house, because Buffy had looked seriously depressed  
that morning.  
  
The phone rang.  
  
"Maybe that's him," Willow suggested hopefully.  
  
"I doubt it," Buffy sighed heavily, picking up the phone. "Hello."  
  
:Hello, Buffy.:  
  
The voice was distorted, almost computerized. The monotonous tone made it   
impossible to decipher the speaker's sex.  
  
"Who's this?" she frowned.  
  
:You-know-who.:  
  
The hair on the back of Buffy's neck prickled. "What do you want?"  
  
:You never should've pulled that stunt in January. Shame on you. Didn't your  
mother teach you never to do that?:  
  
Buffy pushed the "talk" button quickly and then pressed it again, turning the phone  
back on and setting it on the nightstand.  
  
"Who was that?" Willow asked, studying her friend.  
  
"Him. He's back," Buffy looked fearfully at her best friend. "He's pissed off too."  
***  
  
After Spike went back into Xander's basement after the run-in with Faith, he decided  
to swallow his pride and his ego and call Buffy, just to see how she was doing. When  
he called, he got the busy signal, so he frowned and waited a few minutes before  
dialing again. Once more, he got the busy signal. Who could Buffy be on the phone  
with? He tried repeating this pattern for at least a half-hour, and each time he got   
the busy signal. Who the hell was she on the phone with?  
  
So Spike did the next best thing--he grabbed his duster off the peg by the door and  
stomped out the door.  
  
"Spike?" Xander called from upstairs. He heard the DeSoto engine roar to life. He   
opened the front door, clad in a white tanktop and a pair of boxer shorts. "Spike!"  
  
Spike stuck his head out the window, half-lit cigarette dangling from his mouth,  
"What?"  
  
"Where are you going?" Xander asked.  
  
"To see my bride-to-be!"  
  
And as the DeSoto rolled down the road, Xander sighed and said, "Thank God."  
***  
  
Spike made it halfway to Revello Drive before turning around and driving back to  
Xander's house. He missed Buffy something terrible, but he wasn't prepared to  
see her yet. If he could still talk himself into losing his temper over what happened,  
he wasn't ready to see her yet. Speak to her, sure, but talk face-to-face, not  
yet.  
  
So he parked his DeSoto in the Harris's driveway and let himself into the basement  
Xander called home. "Couldn't do it."  
  
"What?" Xander frowned. "Come on, you were so close! So revved to go!"  
  
"Gee Xandy, if I didn't know better I'd think you didn't like me staying here," Spike  
said sarcastically.  
  
"Do me a favor and don't ever, ever call me 'Xandy' again. As it is I'm going to  
have nightmares," Xander flipped through the channels and chugged down a   
Coca-Cola (tm). "Ah. Dracula."  
  
"Turn that off," Spike scoffed. "Tha's cheesy vampire lore and only half of it's  
true."  
  
"And you would know this how, Fang Boy?" Xander teased mockingly.  
  
"Oh, you're a riot," Spike retorted, then hung his duster on its peg and changed  
into a pair of sweats and an Grateful Dead T-shirt.  
  
The phone rang and Spike snatched it up. "Harris-Walthrop residence." He   
paused, shooting a knowing look at Xander, "I'm afraid Mr. Harris is detained at  
the moment...oooh yeah, c'mon Xandy..." Spike said, getting Xander back for  
the "Fang Boy" remark.  
  
Xander snatched the phone away from Spike, socking his arm. "Hey. Sorry   
about that. My idiot roommate thinks he's a laugh a minute."  
  
"I am, Cordy," he said loud enough for Cordelia to hear.  
  
Xander shot a look at Spike. "She says to keep your paws off me, I'm hers,  
not yours."  
  
"Hardee har har," Spike replied, changing the channel from Dracula to Bring  
It On. "This is my kinda movie."  
***  
  
Faith flipped herself over a wall and into someone's backyard, proceeding to  
flip herself into the next backyard and the one after that. Someone shined a  
flashlight on her and shouted at her to stop.  
  
She froze for some reason and looked up. A blond girl had her head poked out  
of the window, a redheaded girl next to her. "What'cha doin' down there?"  
  
"Just passing through. Sorry," Faith called back.  
  
"Hey, don't you go to our school?" the redhead asked.  
  
Faith just stared at them, then tilted her head to the side. "Buffy? Willow?"  
  
"Faith!" the two exclaimed.  
  
Buffy clicked off the flashlight, "Stay there, we'll be right down!"  
  
Buffy and Willow had been acquainted with Faith since their freshmen year,  
but didn't have any classes with her their sophomore or junior years. Their  
memories of her had gotten a little fuzzy, but they could still place her with  
her name. Buffy was the first one down, but by the time she reached her  
backyard, Faith was gone.  
  
"Where'd she go?" Buffy asked, turning to Wiillow and getting bowled over.  
"Ow! Wills!"  
  
"Sorry, brakes don't work," Willow rolled off of Buffy and the sprinklers chose  
that moment to turn on.  
  
Two female shrieks pierced the night air.  
  
And Faith snickered on the other side of the street.  
***  
  
Easter Sunday morning found Spike sprawled on the floor, one arm on the arm of  
the couch and the opposite leg propped up on the coffee table and him snoring  
obnoxiously in nothing but his boxers.  
  
Xander jerked awake after hearing one of Spike's particularly loud snores and  
rolled over, looking at Spike. "Jeez," he muttered. He threw his comforter at  
Spike. "Wake up, Fangy."  
  
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at his alarm clock...  
  
...to find a large pink and pastel blue egg sitting right in front of the red digital  
numbers.  
  
Xander groaned.  
  
His mother thought he was still four years old, and every Easter she set out an  
Easter basket for Xander and made him wander through the basement looking  
for the the elusive-yet-in-blatant-view dyed eggs.  
  
It. Never. Failed.  
  
Even when Xander was living in Lake Tahoe, his mother insisted on doing the  
Easter thing. On the bright side, he always got candy.  
  
"Fang Face," Xander threw a pillow at Spike.  
  
He got a snarfle in response.  
  
Xander threw his other pillow at Spike, and apparently hit him in the nose   
because Spike sat up, rubbing the same orifice. "...Ow."  
  
"'Bout time, Fang Face," Xander grumbled. Spike yanked his arm off the couch  
and brought his leg down, sweeping one of the eggs off the table.  
  
"Wha' the bloody hell?" Spike picked up the ornately decorated egg. "Xandy?"  
  
Xander shivered. "Don't call me that, Fang Face."  
  
"Don't call me 'Fang Face' and I won't call you that, Xandy," Spike retorted.  
  
"It's Easter," Xander snatched the pink and blue egg off his nightstand. "My  
mom has this thing for Easter."  
  
"I can see tha'," Spike yawned, stretching and falling backwards, losing his  
balance. "I'm gonna go take a shower."  
  
"You do that. I can smell you all the way over here, Fang Face," Xander  
said.  
  
"Can smell you too, Xandy, don't even have to concentrate," Spike tramped  
into the bathroom, carefully avoiding scattered Easter eggs. "Bloody hell..."  
***  
  
Buffy woke up Sunday morning to her stereo playing a CD she had put in the  
night before. She rarely listened to the CD anymore, but the song she'd put  
on repeat really fit her feelings as she trudged over to her mirror to see just  
how bad she looked.  
  
---  
Oh mirror lie to me  
Show me what I want to see  
Oh mirror lie to me  
  
Why don't I like the girl I see?  
The one who's standing right in front of me  
Why don't I think before I speak?  
I should have listened to that voice inside me  
I must be stupid, must be crazy, must be out of my mind  
To say the kind of things I said that night  
---  
  
Buffy's hair was mussed from sleeping and bags circled under her eyes. She  
missed Spike in her bed, lying next to her. She had asked Willow to sleep in  
the bed with her Friday. (Not in an intimate way.) She couldn't sleep without  
someone on the other side of the bed now.  
  
Her heart hurt. It hurt so bad.  
  
---  
Mirror mirror hanging on the wall  
You don't have to tell me who's the biggest fool of all  
Mirror mirror I wish you could lie to me  
And bring my baby back, bring my baby back to me  
  
Why did I let you walk away?  
When all I had to do was say I'm sorry  
I let my pride get in the way  
And in the heat of the moment I was to blame  
I must be stupid, must be crazy, must be out of my mind  
And now in the cold light of the day I realize  
---  
  
Before she knew it, sobs were wracking her body, shaking her shoulders. Tears  
trailed down her face as she folded her arms on her dresser and let her pain  
consume her.  
  
---  
Mirror mirror hanging on the wall  
You don't have to tell me who's the biggest fool of all  
Mirror mirror I wish you could lie to me  
And bring my baby back, bring my baby back to me  
  
If only wishes could be dreams  
And all my dreams could come true  
There would be two of us standing here in front of you  
If you could show me that someone that I used to be  
Bring back my baby, my baby to me  
---  
  
"Buffy?" Joyce knocked on her door. She could hear muffled sobs over the  
soft music playing in the background that had been playing all night. "Buffy,  
are you okay?"  
  
"I...I'm fine," she said decidedly, hiccoughing. "Fine," she whispered to the  
mirror. It showed her what she didn't want to see: herself. "Traitor." She  
walked over and opened the door. "Are we going anywhere today? Can we  
go to the picnic we go to every year?"  
  
"Of course," Joyce nodded. "Anything you want."  
  
"Thanks," Buffy hugged Joyce. "I love you, Mom."  
  
"Love you too..." Joyce said the empty hallway as Buffy breezed down the   
stairs.  
***  
  
The Fourteenth Annual Sunnydale High School Easter Picnic Function, funded  
by the wealthy Fitzpatrick family for fourteen years, was something Buffy had  
always attended since the Second Annual Sunnydale High School Easter Picnic  
Function. They were lots of activities there, and you didn't have to dress up  
or anything. It was more of a publicity look-at-me-look-at-me! commercial  
affair than anything, but it still gave everyone something to do on their first  
weekend off for spring break.  
  
Willow corraled Oz, Buffy, Joyce, and Cordelia all into one area. They were  
still awaiting the arrival of Xander, if he was even going to show this year.   
Everyone knew the peroxide-blond Billy Idol lookalike was staying with Mr.  
Popular, so no one was exactly sure that Xander would manage to get out of  
the basement in one piece with Spike. Spike had come to the past Picnics,  
but no one knew if Spike was going to show, especially with the problems he  
and Buffy were having.  
  
Cordelia had attempted to contact Xander, but had failed. Apparently someone  
was on the phone or online at Xander's house, because she kept getting the  
busy signal.  
  
"Hey gang," said a cheery female voice from behind them. "Mind if I park here?  
Don't want to hang with the 'rents."  
  
Willow craned her neck to see over Oz's head. She had been leaning against  
him. "Oh! Faith. Sure, sit. We don't mind."  
  
"Hey B, Willow, dude I dunno with the cool hair, chica I don't know, Mrs. S,"  
Faith sat down next to Buffy.  
  
"Faith, this is Oz, my boyfriend. And that's Cordelia, Xander's girlfriend," Willow  
told her. "Oz, Cordy, this is Faith...uh...Faith..."  
  
"Fitzpatrick," Faith mumbled.  
  
Cordelia's eyes bugged out. "Whoa. Fitzpatrick as in the rich people who are  
funding this?"  
  
"That's them," Faith nodded. "I hate it though. Spend as much time away from  
the moneybags stuff as I can. I like getting down and dirty."  
  
Willow and Oz laughed. Buffy had tuned out the entire conversation, continually  
scanning the crowds for her platinum haired fiancée. She had even put on their  
rings this morning. His ring was too big for her thumb even, so she had put it in  
her dress pocket, hoping he'd show up.  
  
"Shut up and move, Fang Face."  
  
"Xandyyyyyyyyy...lemme go!"  
  
"You're acting like a little kid, and you're *older* than me. How sad is that?"  
  
"Shaddup, Xandy."  
  
"Can it, Fang Face. We're almost there."  
  
"Xandy!"  
  
"Fang Face, shut UP."  
  
Suddenly Spike was in Buffy's lap. Buffy looked down at him. "Fang Face?"  
  
Spike rolled off of Buffy's lap and shoved Xander. "Ge' lost, Xandy."  
  
"I brought you here," Xander said exasperatedly.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes and plopped back down in front of Buffy. Then he proceeded  
to kiss her to make up for all the kisses he missed out on since Monday. 


	4. 3/Five-By-Five

3/Five-by-Five  
  
Thank you everyone!  
  
Blatant advertising: Read "Sun and Shadow", the other series I'm   
working on! Set almost directly after "Gone", Spike goes to the City  
of Angels to seek help from the Magnificent Poof--I mean, Angel in  
helping Spike "get" Buffy. But first, Spike has to help Angel get someone  
else.  
  
Please ask me if you want me to advertise one of your fics in my fic.  
=) LOL.  
  
Have you ever heard of "Writer's Block"? He decided to attack me while  
I was writing this part.  
  
This is also known as the chapter were nothing much happens. But you  
should read it.  
  
~*~ 3/Five-by-Five ~*~  
  
Faith sat at the top of the stairs in her parents' mansion. It was the  
Fitzpatrick Estate. She leaned her forehead against the cold, marble  
wall, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick verbally duke it out. She  
couldn't stand being in this house with them anymore, hardly. So that  
was why she usually went prowling at night. And it gave her parents  
one more thing to argue about. She prowled because they argued, and  
they argued because she prowled. It was a vicious cycle that would  
never stop. Even if Faith stopped her little night sprints, it wouldn't  
matter because her parents started fighting before she started rebelling.  
  
Faith sighed, her ears ringing from the echo the cavernous, cathedral  
ceilings provided. Faith Fitzpatrick was not going to sit idly by and  
listen to that. She was going to go find someone to wreak havoc on,  
or maybe she could go find Spike and get him to cause some trouble  
with her.  
  
That'd be fun.  
  
Faith grinned and went to her bedroom, climbing out one of the   
windows and setting off towards Xander's place.  
***  
  
"Ah! Xander!"  
  
"Cordy!"  
  
"Just a little bit farther...ah!"  
  
"Almost...there..."  
  
"Please hurry!"  
  
"I'm hurrying!"  
  
"Ahhhhh!"  
  
"Right foot green, Xandy," Spike said sarcastically, having opted to  
sit out while Xander and Cordelia played Twister. Buffy had been playing,  
but she'd fallen earlier.  
  
Cordelia and Xander fell in a pile.  
  
"Crap," Xander muttered. Then he kissed Cordy, "Sorry, hon."  
  
There was knock at the door.  
  
"I'll get it," Buffy offered, getting up and going to the door. She blinked  
at their visitor. "Faith? What're you doing here?"  
  
Faith flashed a smile at Buffy, "Hey B." Her eyes flickered across the  
morning. "Spike, dude," she pushed past Buffy and plopped on the couch  
next to him. "What's up?"  
  
"Watchin' the whelp and his bitch gettin' ready for a mating ritual," Spike  
replied, spinning the little white arrow on the Twister spinner.  
  
"Who are you calling 'his bitch'?" Xander and Cordelia asked at the same  
time.  
  
"Tight," Faith nodded and leaned back.  
  
Buffy glared from the doorway where Faith had left her.  
  
"Whatta 'bout you, Faith? Somethin' amatter? Or are you jus' here t' try  
t' steal my car again?" Spike looked at her.  
  
Faith laughed loudly. "God, you are such a badass little dude. But thanks  
for askin', I'm five-by-five."  
  
"Badass little dude?" Spike repeated, laughing.  
  
"I like my badass little dude, F," Buffy plopped next to the blond boy and   
snuggled up next to him. Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulder and  
kissed her forehead.  
  
"Blondie, wanna go wreak some havoc with me?" Faith asked, ignoring  
Buffy. She wanted to go have fun, not sit with Buffy, Xander, and Cordelia  
and watch them play *Twister* for god's sake.  
  
"You underestimate the power of wreaking havoc in Xandy's basement,"  
Spike answered distractedly, focussing on Buffy...more particularly, Buffy's  
lips.  
  
Faith rolled her eyes. "Well I'm not sticking around to watch you guys suck  
face. See ya."  
  
"Bye," Spike mumbled.  
  
Faith shook her head and stepped outside. She smirked and reached into  
her pocket for the wallet she'd filched from Spike...to find nothing. She   
didn't even have her own wallet. She narrowed her eyes and spun around  
to stomp back inside, but the door was already open with Spike holding  
both wallets and smirking.  
  
"You little--" Faith dove at him. Spike just stepped backwards and pushed  
Buffy out of the way.  
  
"Wha'? Did you *really* think you'd leave with my wallet?" Spike looked at  
her, managing to take the fight outside.  
  
"You were playing tonsil hockey with your bimbo," Faith growled. "You   
shouldn't have noticed."  
  
"And *you* should've noticed your wallet gettin' taken," Spike tossed it  
to her.  
  
Faith narrowed her eyes and snatched her wallet out of the air. "See   
you later," and she stomped off.  
  
Spike just rolled his eyes and went back inside.  
***  
  
Oz was practically tackled by Faith as he was walking down the street.   
Willow lived about four houses away from Xander, and they lived a block  
and a half from Buffy's house. Oz lived nearer Buffy than the other two,  
but farther from Xander and Willow than Buffy did.  
  
So he was sufficiently surprised when he was bowled over by a   
distracted Faith.  
  
"Hey...Faith?" Oz sat up, Faith face down between his knees. "...Do you  
mind?"  
  
Faith looked up at him. "Oh. It's you. What's your name again?"  
  
"Oz," he scooted back from her and rose, offering a hand to her. Faith  
jumped up by herself.  
  
"Sorry," she muttered. "I'll be going," she took off.  
  
Oz watched her walk off and shrugged, continuing on his way back home.  
***  
  
Faith launched herself over someone's fence, flipping and landing on someone.  
She looked behind her, sitting on whoever it was's stomach.  
  
He had a thick but not pillar-like neck and wore black clothes with a black  
jacket similar to Spike's duster. He had deep, chocolate brown eyes and   
matching hair. "Miss, could you please get off?"  
  
Faith got up and stuck out her hand to him. "Dude, you gotta watch where  
you're walkin'."  
  
"Or else get bowled over by pretty runaway women?" he cracked the barest  
smidgeon of a smile.  
  
Faith smiled. "I'm Faith. Who're you?"  
  
"I'm Angel," he realized then that he'd yet to release Faith's hand. He slowly  
released it and and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You're not hurt, are you?"  
  
Faith shook her head, "I'm fine. Dude, you okay?"  
  
"I'm good," Angel nodded. "Well, I suppose I'll see you around, Faith."  
  
"See ya," she waved and took off as he walked the other way.  
***  
  
He watched the two part ways, going in the opposite directions.  
  
He smirked. Why, if he wasn't mistaken, things were going to heat up in  
Sunnydale. Or his name wasn't what he thought it was. 


	5. 4/The Part With No Name

4/The Part With No Name  
  
And after a long, long break, I've finally got my muse back. Once I got it  
back, I decided to continue this and put Sun & Shadow on hiatus for a little  
while.  
  
I know it's not the best, but I'm getting back into the swing of things. Let  
me know what you think!  
  
Thank you, everyone.  
  
~*~ 4/The Part With No Name ~*~  
  
He stood atop the Sunnydale High School building, watching the students  
rush out of the imprisonment. He was watching for a certain group, a  
group of seven--a platinum blond, a honey blond, three darker-haired  
ones, a redhead, and a brown-haired one--and would track them   
wherever they went this afternoon, as he had done since he had finally   
broken free of his own prison. Trusty minions, that's what he had. He had   
dependable minions, even if one was slightly less than sane.  
  
"The plan's been set into motion, boss," one of his minions told him. His  
most-trusted minion.  
  
He nodded. "Good. Get back to the hideout, train some more of our   
'resistance effort'."  
  
"Yes, boss," his second-in-command turned tail and left as the group came  
into his view.  
  
"Yes. Wonderful."  
  
And he started tracking them.  
***  
  
"So the old git goes, 'Papers, William? What papers?'" Spike said and burst  
into uproarious laughter with the rest of his group. Buffy had her hand   
threaded through his, Cordelia and Xander had theirs threaded together   
and so did Willow and Oz, and Faith felt somewhat of a third wheel.  
  
"That was great, dude," Faith flashed a smile at Spike. He returned it,   
and Buffy tightened her grip on his hand.  
  
"Ow," Spike removed his hand and shook it out, instead laying his arm   
over her shoulders. "But yeah. The wankers I knew in England..." he   
shook his head and chuckled a little. "I could tell you so many stories."  
  
Suddenly, Oz halted. He frowned.  
  
"Oz?" Willow asked, frowning.  
  
"I have the strangest feeling...that we're being followed..." Oz looked   
around him cautiously, his eyes narrowed and fixed to almost each   
person that passed their large group.  
  
"We're not being followed," Xander said callously, shrugging it off.   
"Who would want to follow us?"  
  
An eerie silence fell upon the group like a bomb explosion. They   
each eyed each other, except for Faith.  
  
"Who? Who would want to follow us?" Faith asked eagerly.  
  
An old Chevrolet convertible pulled up to the curb then. "Faith,   
hey."  
  
Cordelia took that moment to scream and faint in Xander's arms.  
  
"You!" Spike accused, stepping in front of Buffy protectively. She   
peered around his arm at who appeared to be Liam.  
  
"What are you doing here?!" Willow demanded, feeling anger   
bubble up inside of her.  
  
"You guys, chill! It's okay! This is the dude I was telling you   
about," Faith did an odd handshake thing with the Liam lookalike.   
"This is Angel. Angel, this is the gang--Spike, Buffy, Cordelia,   
Xander, Willow, Oz."  
  
"Hello," Angel said as congenially as possible. He felt an awful   
vibe coming from the group. For the life of him, Angel couldn't   
figure out why these few high schoolers hated him. He didn't   
know any of them...but one of their name's sounded familiar.   
"You said your name was Buffy?" he peered at the blond girl   
looking around her boyfriend's shoulder.  
  
"She didn't say her name was anything," Spike growled.  
  
Buffy just stared at him.  
  
"Yeah, that's B," Faith nodded. "Why, you know her, Angel?"  
  
"My brother dated her," Angel frowned. Now it all clicked. He   
figured out why they hated him so much. "But...Liam's been   
locked away. I'm his twin brother--Angel. Surely he told you   
about me?"  
  
Buffy continued to stare blankly at him.  
  
"She called your 'brother' by your name, you bloody bint,"   
Spike glared, standing his ground firmly in front of Buffy.  
  
"Oh," Angel looked down. "Well...I just came to pick up Faith..."  
  
"Who is, gladly, going because she feels like a...seventh wheel,"   
Faith grinned. "C'mon, Angel, let's vamoose."  
  
"Vamoosing," Angel agreed, reaching to open the passenger   
door as Faith jumped inside. "Hey, this is a classic!" he sat   
down in the driver's seat and left the six with his passenger.  
  
"A sudden twin brother?" Xander asked suspiciously, juggling   
Cordelia in his arms. "Something does not bode well with this."  
  
"It's downright fishy," Willow agreed. "Twin brother my ass."  
  
"Whoa," Oz blinked at Willow. "That's the first time I've heard   
you swear."  
  
"Not really," Willow patted her boyfriend's arm. "But...you   
guys...what if Faith...?"  
  
Silence encased the cluster of six, eerily haunting as the rest   
of the students loitering around had left shortly after Angel   
and Faith. Cordelia groaned and began to wake up, thrashing   
in Xander's arms.   
  
"Cordy, Cordy shhhh, it's me," Xander set her on her feet,   
supporting her with one arm and smoothing her hair down.  
  
"Oh, oh god," Cordelia panted, white as a sheet. She threw   
her arms around Xander, who held her tightly. "What happened?   
The last thing I remember if seeing that horrible Liam's face..."  
  
"Faith's conspiring with him," Oz said. "Supposedly he's a guy   
named Angel and is Liam's twin brother."  
  
Cordelia frowned and snuggled against Xander, sighing. "This   
is ridiculous. Why the hell is he back? How the hell did he get   
back?"  
***  
  
"Good question indeed, Miss Chase," He muttered from his   
hiding place. "How *did* Angel get here? Why did Angel get   
here? To plot my demise? According to him, my justice has   
been served..."  
  
Suddenly, He gasped, and began to laugh. "Oh dear. Angel,   
it looks as if you'll serve for more than one purpose!" He   
laughed some more. "Oh yes. You'll serve more than one   
purpose indeed. Whoever knew you'd give one last shot at   
the evil side?"  
***  
  
"So where are we going, Angel-cakes?" Faith asked curiously,   
glancing at the driver of the car and then allowing her hair to   
blow back in the wind.  
  
"I'm not sure. Thought maybe you'd want to get a bite to eat,   
then make we could catch a movie or something," Angel   
answered, changing lanes as he said so.  
  
"DoubleMeat Special and a flick? I'm there, as long as I get   
some Mike & Ikes. I can't survive the movies without Mike   
& Ikes," Faith announced as they pulled into the DoubleMeat   
Palace parking lot.  
  
"Good," Angel got out of his car and locked his door, waiting for  
Faith to get out and grabbing the filched CD out of her pocket,  
slipping it back into the glove compartment, and locking the car.  
He led her into the DoubleMeat Palace and ordered for both of  
them. "So...what grade are you in?"  
  
"I'm eighteen, and in the twelfth grade," Faith answered, sipping  
on a Coke. "What about you?"  
  
"Twenty-something," Angel said elusively.  
  
"That's not fair, you can't cop out on me like that," Faith pouted  
at him.  
  
"Just did," Angel grinned at her.  
  
"Two DoubleMeat Specials and a cherry pie and a Sprite!" called  
the worker behind the counter, and Angel jumped up, retrieving   
their food.  
  
"I just had a brilliant idea," Faith announced, grabbing her Double-  
Meat burger sandwich thing.  
  
"What's that?" Angel had already started eating.  
  
Faith stared at him. "That's so nasty."  
  
Angel shrugged. "What's your idea?"  
  
"Why don't we catch a flick at *your* house?" Faith suggested.  
  
"Because Angel doesn't have a house. He has a hotel room,"  
he answered.  
  
"So? We can order Pay-Per-View, my treat, I'm rich," Faith replied.  
  
"You're rich and stealing CDs out of my glove compartment?" Angel  
raised an eyebrow, already half finished with his sandwich.  
  
"What can I say, it's a hobby," she shrugged. "It's all five-by-five."  
  
"I don't know, I'll think about it," Angel took a rather large bite of  
his sandwich.  
  
"I think I've suddenly lost my appetite," Faith said, setting down her  
sandwich. "This stuff smells like cat piss anyway."  
  
"Don't diss the DoubleMeat," Angel stuck out his tongue.  
  
"What? It does! It smells like cat piss!" she insisted.  
  
"No. Apologize to the DoubleMeat, you hurt his feelings," Angel pointed  
to the burger sandwich.  
  
"I'm not going to apologize to a burger," she groaned.  
  
"You hurt his feelings! Help him fulfill his destiny by eating him!" he   
said, imitating an evangelist. "Repent your sins and help a fellow out!"  
  
People were now beginning to stare at them. "All right, all right," Faith  
folded. She looked at the DoubleMeat sandwich and said, "I'm sorry. I'll  
help fulfill your DoubleMeat Destiny."  
  
"Was that so hard?" Angel grinned as Faith began to eat the sandwich.  
  
"It was embarrassing," she laughed, once her mouth was clear of debris.  
After they finished eating, they hopped back into Angel's car. However,  
once they hit the road, Angel took them towards the movie theatre.   
Faith shrugged it off as they entered the theatre, wordlessly took her   
Mike & Ikes, and sat down in the back row with him.  
  
'What a week...'  
***  
  
"Just you wait, Sunnydale. Just you wait. You haven't seen the last of me." 


End file.
